


Do Androids Dream of Love?

by ThatScottishShipper



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Chocolate, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Gift Exchange, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Hankcon Valentines Exchange, M/M, Mood Indicator Android LEDs (Detroit: Become Human), Mutual Pining, Painting, Presents, Romantic Fluff, Self-Worth Issues, Valentine's Day, dont repost to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/pseuds/ThatScottishShipper
Summary: After Hank shrugs off Valentines and unintentionally Connor’s feelings in the process, Hank decides he needs to find him and apologise.But he and Connor aren’t finished with trying to express their feelings on the holiday of love.*Written for the Hankcon Valentines Exchange 2020.*
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111
Collections: Hankcon and Other Ships Valentines Exchange





	Do Androids Dream of Love?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andthekitchensink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthekitchensink/gifts).



When Connor requested permission to ask a personal question as always, Hank should have known exactly what his Partner in mind.

After all, Hank had spent the last few days in a strop whenever they patrolled the business districts, which had - in the grumpy Lieutenant’s estimations - become the crime scene of a Saint Valentine love monster, with red and pink hearts and glitter  _ everywhere _ .

As Hank slouched in the front seat of the car, arms crossed, not even daring to accompany Connor into the store for whatever errand he had, he just felt every bit the Love Grouch.

And Connor sat with him, silent at first, until curiosity got the better of him.

“Why do you hate Valentines so much?”

At first, Hank snorted, realising it sound a little too similar to the time Connor inquired what his deal with Androids was. He was hardly the type to bury his emotions, but there was something about those curious brown eyes that made him wonder.

_ ‘Am I being a buzzkill about this?’ _

A sudden gaggle of shoppers rushed past his car, screeching about their hot dates, and plans for tomorrow in too much detail.

Hank groaned.  _ ‘Nope. No way.’ _

“Lieutenant?” Connor tilted his head, awaiting an answer patiently.

_ ‘Oh boy,’  _ Hank huffed,  _ ‘here we go. Time to crush his innocence.’ _

“Valentines is just a load of crap.” Hank leered at the offensive clash of fluffy red and pink sparkly things like they had burned down his house, and slaughtered his family with  _ cuteness _ . “C’mon, Connor. Get with the programme. It’s just a big commercial scam to swindle lovey dovey saps out of their money once a year.”

Grumpily, Hank stuffed his hand into the nearby former ashtray where he often kept nibbles and treats, tucking into the new box without a thought. “If someone truly cares about you, it should be every single goddamn day, not once a year because everyone tells you to.”

Beside him, Connor stayed quiet, watching Hank munch away while glaring at unsuspecting shoppers. He frowned. “Is that all there truly is to it, Lieutenant?”

Unwrapping a chocolate in red crinkled wrapping, tossing it unceremoniously into the cup holder, Hank glanced at the garish displays of affection, half expecting a theatrical proposal at any moment.

“Mark my words, Connor. It’s all bullshit. Not everyone gets a special someone and a happy ending.”

Connor’s thirium pump weighed inside his chest as the last sweet wrapper from the dainty box he had placed unseen there was left empty.

**[He didn’t notice.**

**Instability_Increase.]**

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”

xxx

They had not long returned home when Connor walked Sumo, but kept his jacket on. When Hank inquired from the couch, the Android answered curtly.

“I have matters with Markus. I’ll try not to be too long.” Connor gave him a little smile. “Dinner’s in the oven.”

Hank waved at him. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

When Connor left, Hank’s face crumbled.

Sympathetic to his master’s plight, Sumo plodded over, resting his large head on Hank’s knee. Behind waves of silver hair, the man laughed bitterly.

“Pathetic, right? Should be used to this by now.” He tilted his head, seeing something wrinkly and shiny poking from his dog’s mouth.

He panicked, reaching out to snatch it. “Dammit, Sumo! What’d I tell you about chocolates! They’re bad for…”

Suddenly, Hank trailed off, slowly scrutinising the very ruby red familiar wrapper in his hand. He thought back to the car, those sweets, and Connor’s strange question.

_ ‘Oh no.’ _

Everything clicked into place. A brand new selection of sweets he knew he never purchased, the horror that he unintentionally shrugged Connor off without realising, taking his bad mood out on him.

And shooting down any chance of  _ anything _ developing between them because he’s a cowardly idiot, afraid of being hurt again.

“Goddammit,” Hank choked, clutching onto the little sweet wrapper like a wounded heart he had to protect. “I hurt him. I hurt him, Sumo. No wonder he left. He deserves someone that won’t shit all over his feelings like this.”

Sumo whines, licking his hand.

“Don't you start pitying me too, Sumo,” Hank grunted, scratching him behind the ear.

Then, Hank felt something rise inside him, something he hadn’t felt in years. Gone were the ages where he went to bed, leaving unresolved matters to fester like an open wound until they became too big and ugly to ignore any longer. He clambered to his feet, unwilling to lose someone else like that. “I gotta fix this. Can’t spend the whole night wallowing when he’s out there...”

Hurting? Crying?

...With someone else?

Striding towards the door, Hank forgot all about that stupid chicken roast, because something else mattered more.

_ Someone _ mattered more to him.

“Guard the home, Sumo.”

A loyal bark followed him out.

xxx

Driving through the streets of Detroit at night, Hank had one destination in mind. Markus’ home, where Connor should still be.

He clutched the wheel, trying to ignore the sad wrappings still twinkling at him from their discarded place, reminding him of what he did.

His mind kept racing, thinking of all the things he wanted to say when he got there, but all he returned to was  _ ‘I’m sorry.’ _

And that served to remind him further that maybe Connor didn’t deserve someone like him, someone better. What he wanted didn’t matter if it meant Connor could be happy, but he had to at least apologise for being a jerk.

xxx

When Hank first entered the lobby, he came to realise something.

Despite the door being unlocked, all the lights were off… but he was not alone. In any other situation, Hank might have thought he was stuck in a horror film. All around Hank, nightmarish faces with slasher smiles leered hungrily at him from every corner of the hallway.

In the darkness, those contorted expressions injected fresh fear into his veins, and beads of sweat to bubble against his forehead.

_ ‘What the fresh hell…?’ _

Realising it was now or never, and there was no way in hell he was leaving until he found Connor, he slammed his hand against the nearby light switch, preparing for the worst.

What he didn’t expect were paintings - of  _ him _ .

The once darkened colours grew vibrant, like life sparked in each and every Hank. His light grey hair dazzled like silver streams of starlight. Skin weighed by sorrow and time burst to life on the canvas.

And his normally bloodshot baby blue eyes were stunning, easily the most mesmerising pieces of all the pictures. Every portrait captured Hank, from him sinking his mouth into a juicy burger at what was undoubtedly the Chicken Feed, to a close up of him, snowfall dancing around his concerned face.

He almost didn’t recognise himself in these beautifully rendered works of art.

Snapping from his trance, Hank finally called out into the home. “Connor?”

A clatter came from the art studio, followed by the clatter of feet, and then Connor appeared.

The first thing Hank noticed was the alarmed LED flashing at the Android’s temple, and the splatter of blue paint covering his artist apron. If Hank didn't know better, he might have suspected a murder most foul involving another Android had taken place.

However, the shades of blue smudged against Connor’s cheek, and his clothing was a lighter shade than thirium, almost like sky blue. The Lieutenant realised it was his own eye colour, replicated in each and every painting with meticulous care.

When did his own eyes look that…emotive?

“Hank, I didn’t expect to see you.” Connor wrestled with his hands anxiously, a growing unease building inside him.

“Connor,” Hank managed to get out, gesturing to the exhibit all around him. “What’s all this?”

Something caught in Connor’s throat, and he tried to articulate his accomplishments, but failed in the sight of Hank’s disbelief. Attempting to dismiss all the flighty warning messages clogging his system, reminding him  _ Hank didn’t care _ , the RK800 spoke.

“...I wanted to give you a gift, something a little more meaningful than the chocolates in your car… for you to see yourself the way I see you.” With one last shaky voice, Connor added in, “Happy Valentines Day, Hank.”

Hank’s heart stuttered.  _ ‘The way he sees me…?’ _

His gaze returned to the portraits, the reality dawning in.

_ ‘These paintings…’ _ Hank’s eyes trailed across every colourful canvas, especially two side by side ones. One showed Hank smiling, a blinding dawn illuminating him. The second bared so little, but unveiled so much - the edge of the Chicken Feed, a car, cut off by something brown, with silver threads dangling in view.

The morning they hugged for the first time.

_ ‘They’re all through his eyes, of me…’ _

“Connor...”

As Hank trailed off, the Android felt an emotion that reminded him of rooftops, snow, and blood red roses.

_ Fear _ .

Connor was afraid. Afraid of disappointment, afraid of rejection, afraid of loss. The unreadable look on Hank’s face filled him with a fear greater than himself, from the man who took him in, helped him Deviate, made him feel alive.

And now, Connor feared he ruined everything.

Before Connor could speak, to reclaim control over this accursed situation, he felt Hank’s big arms around him. He was silenced completely, all his senses instead focusing on the perfection of being hugged by Hank.

Then he came to feel wetness soaking against his shoulder, as Hank’s trembled.

_ ‘Oh. Hank’s crying, but he is hugging me. _

_ Have I upset him, or…’ _

“Con…”

Drawn to that quiet voice, Connor secured his arms around the man, encouraging him to talk. “Yes, Hank?”

“Don’t deserve you…” Hank mumbled, burying his face against him.

“You deserve the best,” Connor assured him. “You always tell me I deserve to live, well, so do you.”

Stubbornly, Hank shook his head. “Pft, my ship’s sailed.”

Sharply, Connor pulled him back, staring right into those eyes he adored so much, and let everything out. “You deserve a second chance, Hank. A third, fourth, as many as it takes to know you deserve to be happy and know that you’re worthy of love, and I want to make it my Mission, my new Mission, to make you happy…  _ Oh _ .”

Connor trailed off, his resolve frittering away with the thought he might have gone too far. Fright took hold when he saw the unreadable expression on Hank’s face.

“Hank, I didn’t…”

Connor’s words were silenced by Hank’s lips.

Everything connected to the man’s lips, his entire process of the world composing of nothing but Hank. As he fell into the kiss, Connor realised how correct this felt, that it felt like his purpose was to execute this exact command all along, and…

Once Hank’s tongue swept along his lower lip, and his tentatively met, his entire being screeched to a halt, weighed down by the sheer volume of data on his human lover.

**[A lover?**

**Yes, that must be it.]**

The kiss reluctantly parted since Connor remembered that humans needed to breathe. Nevertheless, Hank rested his forehead against Connor, reeling in the sensations shared by them both.

When Connor’s sensors finally returned to reasonable levels, he whispered, “Hank…”

The Lieutenant took a deep breath, brushing his fingers along the Android’s face. “Yeah?”

“You forgot the roast…”

Hank couldn’t help it, his chest rumbling with deep laughter. His hand found Connor’s cheek, stroking him softly. They stared like that, lost in a sweet trance, mindless of the world, until a sniff caught their attention.

By the stairwell stood Simon comforting an emotional Markus, wiping his wet eyes. It was a sight to be the strong minded leader of Jericho, teary eyed at the display before him.

“Are you alright, Markus?” Connor asked, suddenly worried he had committed a grave faux pas in his home.

The RK200 nodded, blinking his overflowing heterochromia gaze that softened at the sight of Connor  _ finally _ bagging his man. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s just seeing you two made me realise that humans and Androids really can come together. It’s what I’ve dreamed of.”

Even Simon, who patted his boyfriend’s back, smiled, pleased that everything had worked out. “Connor’s worked very hard on these, Mr Anderson. “You are very important to him.”

“Oh, really?” Hank smirked when Connor froze.

“Yes, he was quite insistent,” Simon continued, unphased by the wireless screeching ordering him to  **_stop_ ** . “I’m sorry, Connor. You’re hardly discrete among Androids.”

“Not in the slightest,” Markus agreed, shooting back his own messages to Connor.

**[Hey, you came to us, Connor. And Hank’s your responsibility now.]**

**[YOU PROMISED, YOU BOTH PROMISED]**

As the RK800 and RK200 engaged in wireless warfare, Hank snorted, holding Connor close, which broke him from his connection. “Don’t I know it. But that’s what I love about ‘im.”

Connor’s LED buffed, then Markus and Simon flinched in unison, overwhelmed by something Hank couldn’t see, but chalked down to weird Android noise. In the blink of an eye, Hank swore that Connor’s LED shone…  _ pink? _

_ ‘Yep, it’s pink. That’s new.’ _

As the ring swirled in a sweet colour, reminding Hank of the candy wrappers, he retrieved something from his pocket, and placed it in Connor’s hands.

“Oh yeah. Here, it’s not as amazing as all this, but… y’know.”

The Android gasped.

Sitting in his trembling hands was a heart, handcrafted with shiny red and pink layers, crumpled together. 

“Sorry for, y’know, what I,  _ fu- _ ”

Without warning, Hank was helplessly tugged towards Connor’s waiting lips over and over again, but honestly, he wasn’t complaining. The Android wrapped his arms around Hank, still keeping hold of such a precious gift, and cracking under all the emotion flooding his system.

From the sidelines, Markus and Simon watched, amazed that Connor the Former Deviant Hunter cried tears of joy, beaming a vibrant pink LED practically evoking hearts everywhere.

Leaning his head against Markus, Simon sighed happily. “I do enjoy a happy ending.”

And Markus kissed Simon’s LED, which blipped pink momentarily before settling back to calm blue. “So do I, Simon. Everyone deserves one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hankcon Valentines Exchange 2020 for andthekitchensink. I blended a few prompts into this story with Hankcon (and some Simarkus,) Hank railing against the commercialism of Valentines and Connor expressing how he feels in a profound way that just blows Hank away.
> 
> Did some big rewrites last minute for this story. Originally, Hank was going to stay at home and wake up to a house filled with paintings, but once I added the whole bit about Connor’s chocolates at the start and Hank then realising he hurt his feelings, I decided to have him driving to Markus’ house to find him.
> 
> Hence the House of Horror Paintings.
> 
> This also gave me a chance to include more Simon and Markus being supportive boyfriends. Also Markus being the one to blubber first felt like a funny subversion of many ideas I’d seen of Simon being seen as the more emotional one. Markus has always wanted to see human and droids together, so Hank and Connor embody that ideal.
> 
> I really wanted to hammer in the message that everyone deserves chances for love and life. It’s a very important part of what I love about Hankcon. 💖💙💖💙
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. 💙


End file.
